Torch-light flickered in the cavernous chamber below Benitez HQ as the meeting was called to order.
The hand-full of representatives sat around the firebox, and hushed as Carlos cleared his throat.
"The time has come, dear friends, for our family to once again sit within the Council Chambers. In order to work for the benefit of the people, we and the current delegates have come to an agreement. Now it is left to us to decide which ones of us ought sit on the council, and represent the interests of the organisation, our families, and the silent masses in the empire who's voices are rarely heared."
The first voice to speak up was Enrico. "You should sit, Don Carlos. You have the right". Carlos raised his eyebrows.
"That decision is still to be made." replied Carlos. "I am still deliberating about weather that is really the place for me. There is no question, however, that the seats that have been arranged for us will be filled. The question is, by whom?"
A silence fell. After afew moments, Jose spoke up. "Surely Zavier ought be allowed this honor?"
Carlos shook his head.
"Whilst I agree he would be a good candidate, we have not received word from him since he left on long-term recon of the Nomad-Outcast border. With the current climate, his seat must be, if only temporarily, filled by another. And then there is the matter of you, amigo. Will you sit?"
Jose's glanced around the room, to find all eyes meeting his.
"These decisions need to be made quickly senors. I'd imagine the Council is getting impatient."
"So ..." Juan sat back down, the throbbing in his eye had to wait.
"This was more than just a scouting mission I see."
Lucendez looked at his holo-watch. "Screw the Benitez, we need to move on this info now. The Zoners aren't going to help us. The Outcasts could be shooting everything human and the Zoners would still think it's "not in their best economical interests."
"The Liberty Rogues are too far away from Omicron space to do anything, so we'll have to depend on our old allies. But ..."
Juan started to stare into space, left eye twitching. Someone snapped him back to reality.
"Outcast society is spread out, there is no way to know who is infected and who isn't. We can ask the Rogues to keep an eye open, but other than that we'd have to hunt down every single 'cast and test them."
Juan was beating around the bush, time to talk straight.
"So, my question is: How much of Outcast society is blinded by this reverence to their "ghosts?" Should we open diplomatic channels and attempt to garner support for a purge?"
Several unnamed Elders started shouting, but Juan put his hand up.
"Listen, I know we can't be the heroes of the human race, we have our own people to look after. But. We have this information, do we just let it go? How do we know the Order is up to this kind of thing? We need to make this public, make it so that every single trader secretly scans every single Outcast that he attempts to trade with. Simply put, we need a popular acknowledgement from both of our societies that this kind of fraternizing with the enemy of mankind is not acceptable."
"The thirteen saloons that had lined the one street of Seney had not left a trace. The foundations of the Mansion House hotel stuck up above the ground. The stone was chipped and split by the fire. It was all that was left of the town of Seney. Even the surface had been burned off the ground.
Nick looked at the burned-over stretch of hillside, where he had expected to find the scattered houses of the town and then walked down the railroad track to the bridge over the river. The river was there."
As Lucendez finished, three figures appeared in the doorway, only partially illuminated by the dim light.
Dressed in new black and sand uniforms, the figures slowly and deliberately processed towards the empty seats at the other end of the chamber.
A man in his forties, with an almost permenant frown and a face difficult to read, sat first, in the middle seat.
He was then followed by the man to his left; a man of similar age, and kinder disposition. Then, to the left, the youngest of the three sat down.
The man to the right glanced round the chamber, surveying the faces of the surrounding elders and centurions.
The man in the centre coughed slightly; for the past year he had hated the smell of whisky.
Jose had been to many old buildings before now, but not one that held the same significance as the Council chambers.
Like all Corsairs, he had grown up knowing where the building was and what it had looked like as it had been featured many times on the telecasts, but hed never expected to walk into the Council chamber, especially not as a member of the Council.
However, here he was, and despite being 42 he still felt a little bit like a young child on their first day at school.
Like all who entered the chamber he had been politely requested to surrender his side arm to the guards. The lack of the blaster only served to make him feel even more uncomfortable, it was something he habitually wore in much the same way that most people wear a chronograph on their wrists.
Whilst travelling to the Council Chambers on the maglev, Jose had asked Carlos what it was that was expected of him by the Council. Carlos had responded by simply saying that the Council expected that he only do his duty, whilst the Corsair Nation expected very much more. Jose was certain that this comment was supposed to put him at ease in reality it had made things worse.
More than duty? More than being prepared to die to protect those who he had sworn to protect? What more was there he could give?
Having now entered the Council chamber and surveyed all of those already present he realised what it was that was more than mere duty. He recognised in each of those present the quality of leadership. Leadership was what the Corsairs expected of their Council, and Jose said a silent prayer that he might live up to those expectations.
He took his seat and wondered if Custo was feeling the same.
Custo' was standing to the left of don Carlos and peered around the Council chambers warily. The last time he'd clapped eyes on the room's interior it had been from the wrong end of a holo-projector on the Battleship Talos. He noted the doors had been replaced as well. In all it was good to be there, for a cause - the Corsair Cause, uniting against the Cause's common enemies. He coughed politely to attract attention to himself before continuing.
"I have heard of our latest troubles with our despicable foes, the Outcasts. They have aligned themselves with the foul alien Nomads, Si?"
There were a few terse nods from the assembled Elders. He took a step forward and placed some peices of paper on the main table.
"Have we heard of the Order on this? But for now that doesn't matter, I want to speak of a Zoner who has contacted me from Omicron Alpha to offer me a deal. For now I will not mention his name. I believe he may have contacted Senor Huarez and Don Carlos as well. He told me his parents were both Corsairs that seeking peace moved to the Freeports before his birth. This dishonoured his familia because they betrayed the Corsair Nation, and now he seeks to win back honour any way he can. '
'He has offered to keep an eye on the Outcasts from the inside, reporting their numbers and any critical data. If the opportunity arises he will commit acts of terrorism, disruption and deception. I have no doubt if he carries his plans through, and he is caught which would be more or less certain, the Zoners would disown him and hand him to the Outcasts who would most certainly torture him before summarily executing him. However he does not seem to fear death."
Custo' looked around to judge what the others thought before continuing. There were looks ranging from boredom to interest.
"Be aware I do not know him personally, and because of this I cannot judge if he is reliable, or even if he is helping us. This may simpily be a subtle method to decieve us by the Outcasts. So far he is passing on information through either myself or hermano Jose, who is also present today. If you look at the pieces of paper on the table it has all the detail you will need. Name, last position, etc...' 'That is my peice for now. Should I contact said Zoner and tell him to return to his Freeports, or shall we try to use him against our foes?"
Custo' then stood back, with a slight bow to show he was finished.
//I'll send you PMs about the spy. This is because spy RP is pretty delicate, and I'm afraid that if I post a name here, the concept of in-character knowledge will go out the window, and he'll get shot by some trigger happy indy. I'm sure if the Outcasts were doing something similar, they'd also be wary.
News of another spy in the outcast camp was not surprising to Gentle. Carlos had a long reach and his peoples influence was useful to have back in the council. 'Amigos lets use this zoner to feed us more information' Gentle leaned forward and addressed the elders around him 'I am confident that the Benitez's spy is going to be of benefit' 'Tell me hermano when can we expect to get reports from this zoner time is a factor and we need to make action happen sooner rather than later, much depends on accurate information'
Eh... hope this message reaches the Council all right, this is Clerky McGoo, of the newly created Corsair capital ship registry Elders, I came across this transmission, seemed... suspicious. Some guy claiming to be an Elder, and spouting some general nonsense, thought it'd require some looking into.
Attached:
' Wrote:Source: Corsair Guard - Division of Special Operations
Name: Elder Juan Tweest
Greetings fellow Corsairs and Elders. It has come to my attention that the previous database containing all Corsair ship registrations was lost. This is most unfortunate and i am glad to see that the majority of the information has been retrieved. However, it seems you have "misplaced" the Classified data on two of the vessels under my command and this has led to a problem i will clarify below. Hopefully you understand the seriousness of this breach in security and or the incompetance of the officer that was in charge of the database.
Our Preafect Class Cruiser (Corsair ID/Guard IFF) has recently been attacked twice by OPG members claiming that the ship is not registered. The names and the orders of our ships are Classified and therefore very little information can be made public. The captain of this ship has also made me aware that certain individuals have been harassing him and interfering with his standing order to protect Corsair space from all outsiders and in some cases from its own people when they interfere with the said protection of Corsair space. This will not be tolerated and any further hostilities will be met with a quick and decisive response.
End Transmission
OOC: I don't know what the problem is of "some" OPG members (we have NEVER had any problems from TBH or Benitez), but this is getting very annoying to log in to have fun and play a game only to be attacked by "supposedly" OUR OWN PEOPLE and then have to argue with them about this registration crap (while tripoly is being attacked) when we were allready registered in-game through TBH and have been playing the characters off and on for over 8 months. Very UNFUN! So from now on, ships under my "command" will now open fire on and attempt to destroy any ship that fires on us without permission. Keep it up and ill take the next step by filing a pictorial report to the Autonomus Division of Management and Interstellar Navigation Service. I'm posting this rant here so all can see it and we will take this action because arguing/rp'ing with "these poeple" in-game is apparently useless and a waste of our time. PM me if you have any other questions or gripes. Thank You.
Gentle shook his head in disbelief. Recently all sorts of crazy things had been happening around crete and they were beginning to wear down his limited and fragile patience.
'Find out who he is and cut his damn head off for impersonating an elder'
gentle grinned at the shocked faces.
'Well something like that is good for me but im sure your all going to suggest something else so ill wait and see'
Carlos raised his eyebrows.
"It would seem we have yet another entrepreneur who has bought himself a ship and thinks that makes him our equal, and who has failed to register his ship through the proper channels.
Sticking scales on your body does not make you a Gaia-Beast.
Let us not forget these individuals often get their money by stepping on the working classes of Crete; the people whom we serve and protect.
Registration of capital ships is Cretian law. There is no room for interpretation within that law, and it ought be enforced without exception."
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